


Pure Water

by worldly_blinkers



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Awkward Romance, Drama, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Modern Boy in Thedas, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build, Slow To Update, Varric Tethras is a Good Friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2020-03-13 10:59:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18939571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worldly_blinkers/pseuds/worldly_blinkers
Summary: "Water is life’s matter and matrix, mother and medium. There is no life without water" Albert Szent-GyorgyiSterling Fontayne lived his life with the spotlight on his family. There was always high expectations for him to follow after his parents and sisters to enter the celebrity circle despite his heart telling him that he has another path, one much more important than fame and vanity. What he doesn't expect is to be cursed by a god and sent into the turbulent land of Thedas as a Medium of sorts. He is confused just as much as he is terrified but his involvement in the war against Corypheous might just be bigger than anyone knows. It doesn't help that his horse seems to be teleporting, a horned giant with a glowing hand has a strong liking towards him and a grumpy elf seems to be harboring a six-eyed wolf in his body.~Credit of Elvhen Language to the translator found on LingoJam and the Dragon Age Wikia.





	1. What the heart needs may not be what it wants

**Author's Note:**

> So I ended up rewriting this chapter and thank you to my lovely beta @roja_is_a_babe for looking things over. Also had some help from another friend as well but now the revised version is much better and I'm happier with it.
> 
> Please leave me some nice comments and kudos! I'll let you pet my cat, Violet, if you do <3

Stardom is portrayed as this sort of glamorous lifestyle where nothing is ever wrong and anything you ever dreamed of can be attained ever so easily with money. More often than not, they give a dazzling smile and put off a charisma they seemed to naturally possess. There is also the downside of fame; gossip, rumors, drama, tabloids. Everything you say and do reflects you as a person and those close to you such as your family. Knowing full well the consequences of being caught within any negative chatter, many celebrities are wary of who they trust and remain vigilant of who they associate with. While prestige can provide one of the most amazing life experiences, it can also be one of the most notorious living nightmares.

 

 _This_ is where our story starts.

~~

Summertime was by far one of the most amazing seasons. The sun will shine brightest without a cloud in the sky to block its warming rays accompanied by the sound of cicadas. Hoards of dragonflies zipped about to gorge upon the return of mosquitoes and flies from wherever they slumbered. Summers are even more exceptional in Cuba with beautiful sandy beaches and plenty of open ocean. It is a popular vacation spot for the Fontayne family who rented a beach house three out of the twelve months in said country. The family of six would carefully extract themselves from the United States and from the inner circle of stardom to take time just for them to bond, to take a break and relax without thinking of what they did every second and every minute of the day.

 

Along the coastline, just as the sun was beginning to set, Sterling wanted to take one last ride before the day ended. His mother, a retired Olympian, refused to leave behind their beloved horses each summer so she would pay to have them flown over before they arrived. It was her firm belief that riding their horses on the beach would better them in the long run. Saltwater did wonders for their hooves and running in the sand helped to relax their minds. His own horse, Atlas, was quite fond of beach rides at dusk. The white Thoroughbred carried its master dutifully through the sand, nostrils flared in excitement and ears pin straight.

 

The two were a match made in heaven, Sterling with his wavy black tresses fluttering behind him on an enchanting white horse. If one looked close enough, you would think that he was an angel and the faint outline of wings illuminated by the setting sun. 

 

Atlas pulled on the reins with his head giving a furious shake. It was in his veins to run at full speed, to push himself to the absolute limit. He wanted to run until his lungs burned like a vehement blaze. His rider responded in kind with gentle half halts to slow the hot-headed steed. But such bliss cannot last long. An insistent ringing overtook Sterling’s ears causing him to grimace at the interruption. Any phone calls he received were only one of three options: nosy paparazzi, self established “friends” or his paranoid family. He didn’t really care much for any of those options but a phone call was a phone call so he slowed Atlas to a quick paced walk. The man shifted the reins to on hand and checked the caller ID with the other. 

 

He breathed a sigh of relief that it was just his mother. Atlas began to prance impatiently. He wanted to run. Sterling tugged at the reins to try and settle him. It worked but not without a defiant head toss from the horse in return.

 

“ _Si, mama?_ ” The words flowed out easily, tone soft.

 

“Do you plan on coming back to the house at some point? Celesta is trying to cook again and I thought you wouldn’t want to miss that.” Her voice was clearly on the verge of laughter and the muffled sound of arguing in the background was followed by the clatter of pans, further fueling her stifled chuckling.

 

His elder sister could easily be confused as his twin just by appearance alone but personality wise, they couldn’t be more different. He didn’t know what he wanted as a career while she had already made a name for herself in the modelling world. He could cook wonderful meals for his entire family of five including himself while she could just as easily poison them with her attempt at macaroni and cheese.

 

“As appealing as that sounds, I think I’ll enjoy my ride with Atlas a little longer.”

 

The sea wind seemed to become a few degrees cooler and the gentle lapping of waves started to grow in size and sound but Sterling paid them little heed. 

 

Atlas, however, was growing anxious with the very sudden weather changes. His head bobbed restlessly up and down, front hooves side stepping through the wet sand. The man gripped his mane tightly but remained calm as to not fuel the animal’s anxiety even further. This was just a hot-blooded horse acting up like he normally did after a hard ride.

 

“I figured as much. Can’t blame…. _zzzvt….._ trying.”

 

“Could you repeat that last bit. You’re cutting out on me”

 

“I said……. _zzzzvt_ …..okay” **_click_ **

 

The phone call abruptly dropped. Sterling looked down at the phone screen and was greeted by a garbled mess of symbols engulfing the screen. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion but he wasn’t given a chance to investigate further because Atlas gave a frightening whinny at the sound of the ocean waves violently crashing onto shore with ferocity akin to an incoming storm.

 

That was when Sterling’s green eyes noticed something odd. The unmistakable glint of eyes from under the water sent a chill down his spine. It wasn’t the eyes itself that had him trembling in fear; it was the abyssal depths of keen fixation he recognized in them. There had been fans of his who had the same look. Fans who would become emboldened when he showed fear. Atlas gave a bellowing neigh of fear, beginning to rear up from the same thing that had Sterling gripping his mane with white knuckles. Those bright violet irises didn’t even blink as it began to rise out of the water, approaching the shore with it’s large shadowy body still hidden by the waters.

 

Atlas violently twisted his large frame around to avoid facing the creature. “Easy, boy, easy!” Sterling tried to soothe the horse but to no avail.

 

Shrouded in foaming seawater, the creature was smaller than Atlas and stood on four gangly legs. It was darker than any shade of black, as if it could suck you in from staring into them too long. The sky had darkened significantly as if it were suddenly becoming midnight. Atlas reared up in terror, Sterling giving a cry of fear. He barely managed to stay on, thighs squeezing the broad beast and hands entangled so tightly they had begun to turn purple. 

 

Wind viciously ripped through the air and only increased the panic-stricken feeling Sterling had. His heart beat so hard the sound of it filled his ears. The elastic holding his tresses back snapped, sending the ebony waves whipping around his neck and face. In those few moments he was blinded, the creature had risen entirely out of the water as if it was standing on the surface of the water. It had the appearance of a greying stag of unholy suffering. Skin and muscle was peeling off of it in various places to reveal bone and sinew. Old wounds riddled it’s body in multiple stages of healing. One of the horns was broken from what otherwise may have been a proud twelve point rack.

 

Green fog was starting to flow out of the water and was beginning to trail under the flighty hooves of Atlas. Sterling knew deep in his gut that they should be galloping away from the diabolical deer but those vacant purple eyes seemed to root them in place. The stag did not draw any closer to them and as if on cue, the wind stopped howling and the ocean tentatively held still. Everything was still; not a single sound could be heard other than the blood pumping through his ears. No more than a minute went by but it felt like an eternity. The stag opened its maw and from it, the sound of a dozen whispers began to pool out. They blended together, speaking a language he couldn’t understand and began to grow in volume, talking more rapidly. 

 

Sterling was no longer trembling but had fully broken out into a cold sweat with goosebumps covering his entire body. Atlas seemed to be held in place by invisible chains, his panic only visible by the whites of his eyes. The voices finally all came together into a single weak, raspy one that uttered out a phrase.

 

_Unvena ma._

 

The crack of thunder was the only warning he received before the ground opened up and swallowed the both of them into the unknown. Atlas tumbled to the ground roughly, tossing the man from his back to roll across the cold stone. Only when his body was stopped by a large rock colliding with his back did his eyes fly open, a wail of pain forced out of him. Sterling gave several wheezes, panic began to overtake his mind. Reality was quite literally being ripped apart for him. The sky was no longer the vivid shade of azure it had been on the beach but instead it glowed an ominous blackish-brown with green wisps that were resembled clouds but seemed more like patches of hazy mist. Deathly cliffs of unnatural stone seemed to stretch on for miles and miles, some splitting off into pitch black valleys and others snaking up unknown hills.

 

Sterling made no effort to stand, desperately trying to slow the hyperventilating he was experiencing. This place, if it was even real, was straight out of purgatory. He _needed_ to know if this was all just the conjuring of his imagination, whether the fall had given him a concussion that was causing hallucinations. Sterling rubbed at his eyes with scraped hands, blood smearing where he touched. The desolate land did not revert back to the familiar beach like he had hoped. He gazed up into the dreary sky to see if there was some evidence of a hole that they fell from and maybe even get back through. Any evidence of it was long gone and replaced by a particularly nasty patch of green wisps. What could he do now?

 

Atlas had recovered himself from the rough tumble and had stood up, giving a full body shake. The equine observed its surroundings warily but seemed more concerned about his fallen rider. He took each step gingerly, a limp very evident in his right hind leg. Sterling startled out of his panic attack when Atlas nickered lowly, nudging him gently as if to ask whether he was okay or not. Horses tended to be more sensitive to emotions than other animals and Atlas was no different. His trembling hands came up to grasp the beast’s face, putting their foreheads together so he could ground himself and take some deep breaths. The feeling of closeness and protection eased his mind enough to get himself together. They had to focus on a way out.

 

“It’s-I’m alright, boy. We’re both gonna be okay once we get out of here.” The words lacked confidence and had a slight tremor of fear but it was all he could manage in the moment.

 

The one thing he knew to be thankful for is having his best friend with him. You would think it silly for having a horse as a friend, not a pet or companion but being a Fontayne had cursed him. It was not some curse set by a witch or that required the kiss of some noble to fix; it was a curse anyone with just enough fame had to carry for as long as they remained in the spotlight. People were greedy or as his father liked to say, they were _depredador_ and akin to animals grasping at a means to survive in a harsh sort of world separate from “normals”. His parents never failed to remind him that he was an easy target for these sorts of people. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant way of living, having to constantly look over his shoulder and never allowing anyone, humans at least, into his life.

 

Though he wanted to stay in place and wait for the pain to go away, the sounds of creatures unlike anything he had heard before, urged him to wrap his arms around the strong gelding’s neck and be dragged up into a painful stand. Sterling gripped the mane weakly and couldn’t find the will to mount his horse from the ground so they set off together, both on foot. Walking down what passed as a pathway allowed him a moment to just look around in distress, nothing around him even remotely resembled a destination of Earth. The terror he was experiencing was now at a stagnant and the depraved sounds did little to increase the laboring pace the two had set.

 

The earth gave a violent shake like that of an earthquake causing Atlas to stumble forward, knees hitting the ground harshly. Sterling almost went down with him but a part of him knew that if they fell down now, they would never get back up. The blonde barely held on and groaned in pain from the movement. The sound of shattering thunder followed the earthquake and a few miles off, he could see a tear being ripped through the sky on top a rather steep incline. Chartreuse tendrils weaved in and around the tear with the darker patch of blackened emerald pulsating like some heartbeat.

 

The rip in the sky seemed the only logical way out of this illogical place so Sterling made the quick decision to head towards the mass. It seemed plausible since they had fallen through a similarly green misty hole. He used what little strength he had to pull at Atlas to get the exhausted animal to stand, clicking his tongue to urge him to a faster walk if that was even possible. What had been a dull ache in his ribs was now becoming increasingly more sharp and punctuated stabs of pain. Pained gasps and whines escaped his chapped lips with every step he took but they had to keep going, no matter how much discomfort they were in.  It wasn’t until they were about thirty feet away from the hill leading up to the sky tear that he noticed a mass lying prone on the ground and if he was seeing things correctly, giant spiders were closing in on said mass.

 

As fearful as he was of spiders, he was much more curious about finding out whatever the thing on the ground was but if the obnoxious arachnids ate it first, he would never find out. Sterling stumbled his way forward, waving his arms up and doing his best to yell at the bugs to go away. He scooped up a few sharp rocks as he got closer, hurling them at the spiders which seemed to successfully send them cowering back into the gloom. The spindly creatures shrieked when Atlas seemed to understand what they were and charged towards them; a few weren’t quick enough to scramble away from the thousand pound creature and were thoroughly trampled into a mess of green ichor and twitching limbs. While Atlas kept the hoard at bay, Sterling made his way over to the heap which got increasingly bigger the closer he got and seemed to be moving up and down ever so slightly.

 

The man almost fell on his behind once reaching the mound turned person. It didn’t resemble anything human except for it’s bipedal frame and sharp facial features. Where Sterling was willowy in frame standing at average height, the other thing was built like a tank with broad shoulders and height that could easily stand above Atlas. Sterling had lightly tanned skin, paler in places where the sun couldn’t kiss. The other party wasn’t even a possible skin tone unless it was painted on; without sunlight, it came off as a pale shade of lavender with warm undertones. If that wasn’t puzzling enough, a set of horns nestled in short black hair that curved towards small triangular ears like that of a ram. Metal covered the tips to make them seem menacing and also peaked Sterling’s curiosity to reach out and touch them.

 

He cried out mostly in shock when one large hand grabbed his outstretched wrist, dragging him forward to come face to face with the titan of a creature. If his adrenaline wasn’t pumping so high, Sterling would have remarked on how handsome the thing (man?) seemed to be. His face was nicely heart shaped with a sharp jawline, a five o’clock shadow gracing the lower half of his face. Steel gray eyes met his jade green, first observing him with an open hostility before they seemed to actually notice Sterling and softening to something like peculiarity.

 

Sterling opened and closed his mouth, trying to pick his words without being openly rude but the other male spoke first.

 

“Who are you?” The deep tone came out stern and had Sterling hesitating to answer the question given to him.

 

A vigorous shake to his still captured wrist made him blink back to reality, using his free hand to tug a stray lock of hair behind his ear.

 

“S-Sterling.”

 

The behemoth of a man furrowed his eyebrows quizzically as if the name was one he had never heard before but he seemed satisfied with the answer and released the grip he had on Sterling. He was quick to scramble away once let go and standing on shaky legs, warily observing him. An unmistakable squish made him turn his head around to look at Atlas offing another spider.

 

“Nice horse ya got. Never seen one like that in Ferelden though.”

 

Ferelden? Sterling couldn’t recall any country by that name from his high school history classes. His thoughts were interrupted by the groans of the man getting on his feet, dusting off what dirt he could from his strange clothing. Saying the man was tall was an understatement; he was a giant standing a foot or two above Sterling and being so muscular gave his hulking frame even more to be frightened about.

 

“Getting off topic, sorry bout that. Folks call me Tamri, Tamri Adaar.” 

 

They didn’t have much time left for introductions, more spiders were incoming and all of them looked vexed at their possible meal being taken away. The sense of urgency had Tamri shutting up, once again grabbing Sterling and tugging him away from the creatures.

 

“Looks like we’re outta time! Run!”

 

 Sterling wanted to yell at the man to stop running, to let him go but staying alive seemed more important than whatever dignity he had. Atlas gave one final kick at the spiders before giving chase after his rider and the stranger. It pained his every step to be running alongside the two but the sounds of hissing fueled him to continue on.

 

Just a _little_ further. The hill was growing steeper and more difficult for all parties. Sterling looked back to see where the spiders were at, startling when one was within reach of his ankles. He firmly gripped onto the man-beast to pull himself further up and away from the creatures. Atlas was digging his hooves into the incline as much as possible but even his pace had slowed significantly, slipping every so often on the crumbling rock.

 

_Le…….t…...go._

 

Sterling’s eyes widened in confusion, twisting his head around to find where the voice was coming from. It sounded like that of the stag, frail and hoarse. 

 

_Gae…lathe. You...mu..st._

 

Who was Gaelathe? Tamri seemed to be focused on something else but whatever it was, it had stopped their movement. He attempted to look over the massive shoulders to glimpse whatever the other saw but just as he thought he saw a slight glow, electricity shot through his left arm and jolted his senses into overdrive. His vision swam to the point of being nauseating and the scent of burning flesh invaded his olfactory sense. Sterling let out a scream of excruciating pain, the shock continuously coursing through his body and forcing him to release his grip. Tamri unconsciously did the same and soon he felt himself falling straight towards the pursuers. Everything around him seemed to slow down significantly as gravity forced him down towards his death.

 

Was he to die like this? Falling to his death amongst radioactive spiders in a godforsaken death quarry?

 

His mind flashed back to his family, how warm and loving everyday was with them from the time he was a small child. He remembered when his father started to teach him how to work with silver like he did and form it into something beautiful. He remembered when his mother put him on her own horse for the very first time and how deeply in love he became with the sport. He wanted to see Tahki’s gentle smile towards him when he did something to cheer her up after a long day. He wanted to hear Justa fill up the riding arena with her bubbly laughter when he made an obvious mistake. He even craved tasting Celesta’s poison cooking one more time, just like he was supposed to before this whole shit storm.

 

He wasn’t even twenty-five; he wanted to live.

 

_Do you want to live, Gaelathe?_

 

Sterling had squeezed his eyes shut tightly only for them to fly open and be met by rich purple irises. A frighteningly thin man with long pointed ears and wispy blonde hair seemed to merely be floating above him, staring into his eyes so deeply he felt that his soul was bared naked. Shivering hands landed on either side of Sterling’s face, shocking him by how cold they were. Nails dug into his cheeks ever so slightly in desperation of something.

 

“ _Let me help you,_ _Gaelathe_.”

 

Sterling couldn’t respond even though so many words were hammering at the front of his mind.

 

“ _Mala suledin nadas_ ”

 

The long-eared man leaned forward to place his forehead on Sterling’s forehead, whispering words too fast and garbled to understand then pulling away with a somber face and just like that, he was gone in a cloud of white.

 

He thought the pain was bad before. Nothing could prepare him for the excruciating agony he was suddenly feeling in his head. Hands flailed to cover his left eye which felt like someone pushed a heated brand through it and straight to his brain. He didn’t notice Atlas leaping after him from the hill or how his mane and tail shifted into that of flowing green tendrils or how the crack of thunder erupted below him. He could only feel himself hitting cold ground, head bouncing up once before settling down. Spots erupted across his vision, fading slowly into unconsciousness.

 

The world went dark, leaving his mind in a blaze of inferno.


	2. Everyone is crazy or maybe I'm the crazy one?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sterling has no idea where he is and everyone around him seems to be medieval cosplayers who insist that he is an "Antivan" that stole his own horse? Is he just crazy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, folks! So I finally finished up the second chapter of Pure Water. It took sooooooo long because I got distracted by several other works I have in my Google Docs and college has started back up. Being in communications means I already write a lot which makes free time writing hard. I hope you enjoy this chapter and leave nice comments and kudos!

Gasping awake, Sterling made to sit up from where he had fallen but collapsed from the pain of his left eye radiating down the side of his neck. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before and that was saying something after all the injuries he had received from horses over the years. Sterling braced his hand where the pain was, pushing on it desperately to try and lessen the pain but to no avail. It seemed like hours that he was just whimpering on the ground but it was no more than several minutes and the pain ebbed away ever so slowly. Atlas had remained nearby, laying on the ground. The steed was most likely worn out from moving around so much.

 

Sterling didn’t think his vision was impaired but looking around he thought otherwise. The skyline did not have the crowded city towers and bright street lights; no, there was nothing but high mountains and forestry. The sky was another story altogether. Was it possible for a rip to be in the sky because if so, there was one and it was absolutely sinister. Viridescent ribbons trailed from some location straight into the sky hole with random lightning bolts flaring out. Honestly, after whatever just happened, Sterling was becoming numb to the weird as he stared in fascination at the hole. Maybe if he closed his eyes long enough, he would find himself at the hospital and told he had just fallen unconscious. That didn’t work and just reminded him of how much pain the rest of his body was in.

 

Where could he even begin? He was in another unfamiliar place that most likely had more titans like the hulking man he had met and cosplaying elf people like the one who had touched his face. It was a lot to take in so Sterling painstakingly moved himself over to lean against the broad back of Atlas, thinking it a small blessing that at least he had his horse with him to go through the ordeal. For some time, he just sat there and pondered what to do but the more he thought, the harder it was to wrap his mind around whatever had happened to him. He had attempted to call for help with his phone but that had been smashed from the impact so he dumped the broken pieces on the ground. Sitting around was getting him nowhere, that much he knew.

 

“Maybe we can find someone to help us.” Sterling muttered softly to Atlas, the equine flicking it’s ears thoughtfully.

 

The man got his legs over the resting horse, squeezing him to stand. ‘ _ Thank you balance for being intact’ _ Sterling thanked internally. There was a worn dirt trail some yards away from the clearing he had been dumped in, leading away from the tear in the sky and seemed to be the safest way to go. Conifer trees thickly entangled themselves on either side of the path with a few deciduous trees sprinkled in and plenty of thick shrubbery filling in any spaces. Sterling kept to the edge of the path, eyes curiously spotting small creatures that look like a mixture of a pig and a rabbit with pointed snouts. They were quite cute and made squeaks of alarm, fleeing into the underbrush once they realized they were spotted. Other than the squeaking of these creatures and bird twittering, it was eerily quiet as if everything living creature knew whatever was in the sky was dangerous and not supposed to be there. 

 

The trees began to recede away with signs of civilization and the path becoming less defined with signs of wear. Some trails were more well used than others and those were the ones he kept following. With more signs of people, Sterling began to grow more nervous and fearful that they wouldn’t be able to assist him. Despite his nerves, he kept on with Atlas towards what would hopefully be a town with some kind of police station to help tell him where he was. It was some time before the sounds of people filtered into his ears and steadily grew louder the closer they drew; upon coming around the bend, Sterling was surprised to see what looked to be a camp with about a dozen huts and groups of people scattered about. There were men and women dressed as medieval knights, brandishing worn metal armor and swords that seem stained with what could only be blood. He gulped down the tendrils of fear creeping into his mind, urging Atlas to continue on. 

 

He couldn’t see any of the gray giants but there were plenty of humans, elves and what could only be described as dwarves with their short stocky build. Sterling knew his family was wealthy and was eternally grateful for being able to grow up in comfort but these people, they were certainly on the lower class spectrum. Many were dressed in clothing akin to rags with gaunt and dirty faces. They seemed entirely in disarray, some visibly sobbing and others looking on the verge of breakdown. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were staring at him as he passed by, avoiding eye contact with any particular person. Sterling was more unnerved by the amount of dead bodies he saw; yes, he had seen dead people on television whether it be in the news or portrayed by actors but in reality, nothing could capture the complete lifelessness of the real thing. He swallowed down bile that began to creep up his throat, gagging at the stench of burning flesh wafting through his senses. 

 

The opportunity to focus on something else came to him in the form of several soldiers blocking Atlas from moving on any further without trampling them. Sterling took a moment to dismount, stumbling slightly from the sharp pain of landing but ignored it to face the men. All three were well-muscled as soldiers should be but also had angular facial features of people who never had a full belly. The man in the center stepped forward, right hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He looked to be of mixed race with monolid eyes, a flat wide nose and downturned lips, fresh cuts rested along the right corner of his mouth and chin. 

 

Sterling was hesitant to speak to the imposing man but he needed answers.

 

“ _ Oh, gracias a Dios _ ! Could you help me? I don’t know where I am or how I got here so if you could just let me borrow a cell phone so I can call me family, that would be--” He was cut off mid sentence by a sword being held out under his chin, cold metal barely touching his skin.

 

“Whatever you’re speaking about, stop ” The man spoke with a country british accent which made Sterling think he might be in Great Britain “You boys know where parts that language is from?”

 

“Could be from Rivain, ser” The soldier on the right chimed in.

 

“No, gots to be from Antiva. Me mums got a cousin from there” The other soldier added in.

 

Sterling could only listen for fear of losing his head via sword. He took a step back, closely hugging the side of his horse. Antiva, Rivain, neither of those places sounded familiar to Earth geography, making him believe more and more that he wasn’t on said planet. Just as he was about to politely excuse himself to look for help elsewhere, a female soldier had marched up beside him and grabbed his upper arm tightly. He was reminded of his injured body, whining lowly at the pain of being grabbed.

 

“Who cares where he’s from, you eejits! Look at the horse.” The men paused in there debate, observing said steed critically “I ain’t ever seen a horse like this unless it was one of the Horsemaster’s. Don’t you think this one here is a bit dodgy, Corporal?”

 

Atlas gave a timely snort at being observed, hoof scraping the ground anxiously. The center man ,assumingly called Corporal, sheathed his sword and strode up to the thoroughbred. Sterling felt a flare of protectiveness, tugging his arm out of the woman’s hand to grab the reins of his horse.

 

“Atlas is my horse!” He emphasized, narrowing his eyes at the soldiers.

 

He couldn’t believe how these brutes were treating him. All he requested was for help and they responded in suspicion. How did his looks constitute making others uncomfortable? There were other men with black hair and green eyes just like him so what exactly made him different? The corporal frowned at Sterling, nodding to the female soldier who responded by restraining Sterling and moving him away from the horse. He struggled to pull his arms out from behind his back; the woman was built rather stocky in comparison to his leaner frame and though he wasn’t weak by any means, she was just that much stronger.

 

The corporal continued his observation of atlas, skimming his hands along the body and grasping each leg with ease. Once satisfied, he took a step back to eye up Sterling as well, looking between Atlas and him until he came to a conclusion, beckoning the other two soldiers to take hold of the horse. 

 

“What are you doing?! Stop it!” Sterling could only yell at them as they lead the limping stallion towards where some other horses were tethered to a wagon.

 

“Shut it. There is no way someone looking like you can have a horse like that. You probably stole ‘im from Dennet” 

 

Sterling was flabbergasted, eyes wide with shock and mouth open. How dare this man accuse him of stealing his own horse! He struggled to formulate a response to that but the other continued speaking.

 

“You can apologize to him yourself.” He frowned at Sterling as he finished, looking at the woman “Wicks, tie ‘im up and make sure the horse gets back to Dennet. Don’t need damn mages snatching it up.”

 

“Yes, ser” The woman ,Wicks, responded and shoved Sterling harshly to walk the way Atlas was lead off.

 

“This-this has got to be a mistake! I didn’t do anything wrong! He’s my horse!” Sterling attempted to argue but the soldiers had made their decision whether he liked it or not. He struggled to tug his arms free, heels digging into the ground in whatever attempt to get away.

 

Wick was having none of it, dragging him along with a sour face and proceeding to shackle his wrists together. The metal was cold and uncomfortable, Sterling grimacing at the feeling. He was unceremoniously shoved into the wagon amongst burlap sacks and crates, hissing in pain from the rough treatment. Trying to get comfortable was basically impossible on the wooden vehicle so he took the time to look around more. Some of the people were staring at him in curiosity but when they realized he noticed, they averted their gazes and went about their ways. Everything about the place resembled a refugee camp like the ones he saw on the news; people who looked hurt and lost that had nowhere else to go. The soldiers were helping those who were most in need, some standing solemnly in positions he assumed were to monitor who came into the camp and who left while others were shouting as they practiced maneuvers on a hill.

 

What made his stomach clench was the space where injured people were being treated. Those who had succumbed to the injuries were either laid in the open for their loved ones to grieve over their bodies while some were covered politely but the smell, the smell of death was enough to kill whatever appetite he was developing. He was understanding more and more that wherever he was, it was very real with something terrible happening. Sterling shifted his body to sit criss-cross, leaning up against a long crate and looking up at the dark sky. 

 

“Wicks, are you getting in or what?”

 

Sterling glanced to the front of the wagon where a dwarf sat at the head, most likely the driver and owner. The female soldier made a noncommittal grunt, grabbing her sword and hopping in the back. Everything seemed in order for the dwarf who clicked his tongue to encourage the two horses to move. Sterling was in shock at how he was being treated by these people; all he wanted to know was how he could get home to his family. They were probably worried sick about him. He refused to make eye contact with the people who were staring, listening to the whispers instead.

 

_ “What is an Antivan doing in The Hinterlands of all places?” _

 

_ “Did the breach already reach that far?” _

 

_ “Look at his eye. It’s purple!” _

 

_ “Such strange markings.” _

 

Okay, what? What did they mean his eye was purple? And markings? What markings were they talking about? Last he checked, his father prohibited him from having tattoos anywhere on his body. Sterling sunk further into the wagon, pulling his knees up to his chest and placing his forehead on them. The whispers eventually died away to nothing but the sounds of nature and the small talk between the driver and Wicks. Despite the situation, he now had time to settle his thoughts down and think about what he was going to do next.

 

So far, Sterling had seen a deer walk on water, fallen through the country of Cuba, met a titan, almost gotten eaten by huge spiders and been accused of theft. Just a few hours and his life had become ten times more exciting than what it was. The wagon hit a bump, jostling his bruised body and causing him to groan in pain.

 

“How’d you get so damn busted up? Bandits?” 

 

He raised his head just enough to see the soldier, Wicks, looking at him curiously with a sort of smugness that irritated him.

 

“Fell out of the sky.” He remarked, going back to his curled up position in hopes the woman would leave him alone.

 

“Better watch yer attitude with Dennet. He don’t take kindly to that shit.”

 

Sterling didn’t bother to grace her with another response. The ride felt quick despite the beginnings of evening starting to paint the landscape in shades of orange and red. Sounds began to shift from the cheerful twittering of song birds to the hollow call of morning doves and if he wasn’t mistaken, distant howling of wolves or coyotes. He really hoped for the latter. He raised his head to see where they were. It was a small valley with a cluster of wooden buildings, spread out with crops of wheat or corn and pastures with very slow wandering bison, he assumed. 

 

The wagon rattled along the path leading the most elaborate of the buildings that had the main home, a stable and two smaller buildings that could be storage. They veered along the path leading to the stables which Sterling took an interest in. There were several steeds in their stalls that he couldn’t quite make out other than they were probably draft horses. The one horse he could see was tied to a post and being brushed down by a tall mocha woman in breaches and an elaborate leather tunic. She moved her attention from the horse, setting the brush aside, when she heard the wagon. Her sharp square face was accentuated by her buzz cut black hair and gave a roguish appearance similar to Wicks.

 

“Surprised to see you here, Orvez, with all the talk of the mages and templars near The Crossroads.” She addressed the dwarf as she spoke but her brown eyes wandered along the wagon, stopping when she noticed Atlas “Whoa! Where did you get that horse?!”

 

“Dunno. Corporal wanted to deliver some supplies to you folks here and let Dennet deal with a horse-thief.”

 

“Horse-thief?” From the dark stables, an older man walked out with a rag between his hands and a stern expression on his weathered face. He must have been the rumored Dennet that Sterling had been hearing about since The Crossroads.

 

Wicks hopped out of the back, stretching her arms above her head and cracked her neck loudly, then grabbed Sterling by his arm to hoist him out. Most of the adrenaline he had been running on was gone by now as he stumbled painfully to stand but only managed to be kept upright by the soldier. 

 

“Here is the boy himself. You can take a look at that white horse, make sure it’s one of yours.” She replied to Dennet.

The man set the rage aside, hands on his hips as he approached the gelding. Atlas had been pawing the ground nervously since they stopped, nostrils flaring and looking around with wide eyes but the moment Dennet came up to him a sort of calm settled over him, head lowering down and ears going lax. Despite the stone face of the dark-skinned man, his bright amber eyes glittered with excitement and happiness. His large calloused hands ran along Atlas’ neck to his shoulder down to the ankle where he lifted one of his hooves, examining it with a sharp eye and once satisfied did he put it back down. He continued to run his hands along the Thoroughbred to his flank, patting it twice and moving back to his face and scratching just behind the ears.

 

Sterling just watched tiredly, more surprised than anything at how calm his horse was with a stranger. 

 

“Well, this is a great horse --never seen one quite like it-- and as much as I want it to be mine, it isn’t. Nobody would dare take any of my horses these days.”

 

Wicks ,who had a permanent grin to her face, got a look of confusion and bafflement, mouth opening and closing to speak.

 

“Bu-but are you sure? I mean, yer the Horsemaster so we thought a horse like this has gotta be one of yers.”

 

“Listen, I appreciate the Corporal looking out and all but my horses have a brand right on the left hindquarter and he doesn’t have one. I’m pretty sure I would remember a white horse like this going missing.”

 

_ Now wasn’t this one big cluster fuck _ Sterling thought dryly.

 

He could see his vision begin to swim, the pain in his body becoming nearly unbearable and just as he heard Wicks say something else, Sterling went unconscious for the second time today.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Gaelathe= purity  
> Mala suledin nadas= Now you must endure  
> This is my very first posted fanfiction. Though I have written others, my motivation to continue is often difficult to to do and I lose the balls to actually post them but not this time. I feel really proud of myself for it. Thank you so much and hope to write chapter two soon!


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